


And that's all he said

by YingCas



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Cat Videos, Depression, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I swear that this isn't just angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Trouble, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Psychology Students, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Why do the tags always sound so depressing, Yunho is adorable, and Yeosang likes to party, and talks over hot cocoa, blind dates, but i need to tag the bad stuff so, drunk idiocy because come on it's college, history students, it's fall time, library dates and part-time jobs, the point of view changes every now and then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YingCas/pseuds/YingCas
Summary: “A broken heart is a heart that has been loved.”“Then how do you explain my heartbreak?”San and Seonghwa meet in the middle of the gray emptiness. San dreams in color and Seonghwa prefers not to. It’s not like their lives are unhappy, they just seem to be missing something.Something that everyone else was given for free.
Relationships: Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Other pairings not listed here
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Welcome! I’ve never written anything for Ateez before, I’m so excited to finally start posting this for all of you Atinys~ I know that I’m taking a small risk, writing this for a smaller fandom and a less popular pairing but I couldn’t imagine writing this for anyone else!
> 
> Now, this story plays with time. A lot. Flashbacks and shifts, but I’ve tried my very best to keep it coherent. This isn’t your average college story - I wanted to try something different, dive deep and tell this story in my own way. I hope you like this little experiment, if you do, let me know. If you don’t, you can let me know as well. This story is very important for me, I want to learn through it. I hope you find some comfort in it as well.
> 
> This is our regular world with two exceptions:  
> 1\. Most gen four idols are just “normal people”  
> 2\. Homosexuality is not as much a taboo in Korea as it is now. That is not even near the main focus of the story.
> 
> Let's jump right in!

_“Love makes people so weak”_

_San kept his eyes on his drink, the lukewarm beer that he always bought when he had to use his own money._

_“Whenever I wonder if it’s worth it or not, I listen to Again and Again by 2pm. You know, how in that song, the man returns again and again and forgives again and again and he doesn’t even know why, but he just does. Because he is so in love that his hands are tied. Like, what the hell? That sounds awful!”_

_Seonghwa tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy._

_“I don’t think that’s an accurate depiction at all”, the older said. “It’s a song, it’s dramatized”_

_“But love can bring you to your knees”, San turned to look at Seonghwa, a flame behind his eyes. A dark flame, toxic. “I’d never want to feel something like that. I don’t get why people voluntarily surrender to something like that”_

_“You don’t really mean that, do you?” Seonghwa asked. “That’s such an awful way to see something so beautiful”_

_San stood up._

_“I do”, he lied. “There’s nothing beautiful about weakness and desperation”_

  
  


**_Seonghwa_ **

Smoke.

Growing up, Seonghwa was always surrounded by smoke.

One could describe it in two ways. One way to do it would be to say that Seonghwa had always been in his own bubble, he dreamed away his days and lived in fantasy worlds. They were always a bit misty, as dreams often were. His eyes always had that misty feeling in them, he rarely saw the world as it was but more like, he drew layers on it. Layers of smoke, different colors, layers of meaning to places that otherwise were quite empty. 

Emptiness always made him anxious. 

The other way to explain his smoky, unclear past was to simply say that his parents smoked indoors. Disgusting, yeah, that was the kind of explanation that Seonghwa didn’t like using, so he never did. Their kitchen was always covered in smoke as his mother sat by the table, next to the small window that she _did_ keep open, but which only made things worse since they lived next to wild traffic. The open window only enabled exhaust fumes to enter as well, making the small apartment even more suffocating to live in.

Seonghwa sometimes complained to her about it. But she never listened - or, she listened wrong. She didn’t notice the smoke anymore, maybe she just couldn’t see the difference between exhaust fumes and cigarettes. So, it wasn’t a problem for her. When Seonghwa’s teachers complained about the smell of smoke in his clothes, his mother smelled them once and told the teachers to go to hell.

She didn’t know, she didn’t notice, she just didn’t understand. That was what Seonghwa always told himself. Because it couldn’t be that she just didn’t care, no, because she _loved_ Seonghwa and wouldn’t put him through embarrassment on purpose. And Seonghwa loved her. He loved her too much to put her through the pain of quitting - she always told him that she was strong, that she felt better whenever she got a smoke, and when Seonghwa had been little, he had believed her. Mom needed her cigarettes, without them she suffered.

When he had gotten a bit older, he had learned not to point it out. It was none of his business, his mother had made it very clear.

He hid his school uniform in plastic bags and even kept it in a hanger outside his window until some idiot stole it one Monday morning and he had to stay away from school for two weeks before he got a new one. After that, he just kept it at Hongjoong’s place, where he walked every single morning before school to change.

It was okay. Hongjoong didn’t mind, and they were good friends so they were happy to walk to school together. Hongjoong’s parents weren’t well off either, he and Seonghwa lived in the same area of old, gray buildings and small apartments with windows that always let cold air in during winters. Hongjoong’s parents had put some sort of seals into the windows to keep the house warm.

Seonghwa’s mom just told him to put on another jacket. 

All in all, Seonghwa couldn’t say that his childhood had been an unhappy one. He had friends and he liked school a bit more than an average brat, he didn’t know what he _wanted_ to be when he was older but it was okay, no one really did. All of the other kids at school seemed to have some plans laid out by their parents - Jungwoo’s parents wanted him to become a doctor, Minho was going to become a lawyer and so were Kevin and Chanhee, although not a single one of them really seemed to be interested in law. Even Hongjoong’s parents had a plan for him - they wanted him to get into a good university, but he got to choose his career himself.

Seonghwa’s mom didn’t care. For as long as Seonghwa stayed out of trouble and his teachers didn’t call her, she didn’t say anything. Because she loved him so much, she let him be free.

And that freedom was what led Seonghwa to Seoul. 

It wasn’t like life was awful in the small suburb in the south where they lived in - not at all. Seonghwa and his friends often played by the sea, they bought candy after school every Friday with the 5,000 Won allowances that they got, they ran around the broken buildings and drew pictures on the broken asphalt with crayons, without noticing that anything was broken. It was just what home was like, the walls were uneven and you couldn’t run on the roads too carelessly because if you did, you might step into a crack and get your ankle sprained.

Hongjoong learned that the hard way and Seonghwa learned through his pain. Most lights got turned off at midnight so they rarely stayed outside after that, anywhere.

By the time Seonghwa turned 17, he learned the difference between his hometown and the rest of the world. Things were worse than in the capital but much better than in many other places. It was a matter of perspective. But, by the time Seonghwa turned 17, many other things had changed too.

He had become hungry.

He wanted to write for a career. And he wanted to see the great big world. He had, unfortunately, dropped English and Chinese in favor of math (that he later realized he didn’t want to do either) so he couldn’t really go far, but he could go to Seoul. He saw pictures of the high buildings with clear walls and glass windows, he saw the green parks, Namsan Tower and the Hanok village and he knew that he wanted to go there.

By the time he turned 20, he was done with the smoke-filled apartment and his stubborn selfish mother who called him ungrateful as he packed his bags and kissed her goodbye. He only had two suitcases to take with him, and he had no problem traveling with them from his hometown by the southern shore to the capital in the north. He arrived in the afternoon and took his bags to the new dorm room of his that he was about to share with someone he had never met before. He was nervous out of his mind but at the same time, excited. 

Because that was the first time in years that he felt like he could breathe, without the smoke finding its way everywhere.   
  
  


**_San_ **

Tick, tock, tick, tock, _tick, tock, tick, tock_

San kept staring at the clock on the wall while Wooyoung kissed his neck. It didn’t feel that bad, he had gone through worse - hickeys always hurt a little, but having them meant that he had felt some pleasure, right? That he had felt some love. He could endure, he would get used to it and he should learn to like it in time.

Wooyoung sucked particularly hard, and San gasped.

“Do you like that?” Wooyoung breathed against his skin, obviously turned on and feeling horny. San tried to match his way of breathing and wrapped his legs tighter around his torso.

“Yes”, San moaned. “Please, mark me, let everyone know I’m yours”

Wooyoung laughed softly against his skin and continued kissing his neck. Wooyoung had always found it funny when San tried to talk dirty - he claimed that it was just because he found San cute when he was trying so hard. It was as though he had just read some lines from books and tried to apply them to practice now. 

He had. 

Dirty talk was like a foreign language to him. He struggled with everything, he only knew some common phrases at this level. 

San really liked Wooyoung, and he wanted to make him feel good. It was his job, as his boyfriend. Wooyoung had always said that they were not in a rush and that he could wait for as long as he had to until San was ready.

But San didn’t know if he was ever going to be ready.

“You’re so beautiful”, Wooyoung said and pulled back so that he could look at San’s face. Wooyoung was good looking, attractive, understanding, a textbook example of a perfect partner. And San liked him so much. So much so that he was ready to do everything for him. Almost everything.

“So are you”, San said quietly. “I’m so happy to have you”

Wooyoung smiled a little and leaned down to kiss San on the lips. Now, that was something that San did enjoy - up to a certain extent. Kissing was okay. Making out… was okay, when he was really drunk. And he had drunk some soju with Wooyoung before getting down to do this so.

Not quite enough to go further but, he could do some things for Wooyoung’s sake.

Because Wooyoung was such a perfect person.

_Tick tock tick tock_

San hoped for the clock to speed up but, then again, he wasn't sure if he had it in himself to face what the future held.   
  


_**Seonghwa**_

Seonghwa was smoking under the shelter. He still hadn’t gotten used to it - the feeling of death filling his lungs. Maybe it helped with stress, maybe if he believed in it harder then it would. Right now, however, it felt more bad than good. But the feeling of bad made him feel quite good if that made sense.

Ridiculous. He should just throw them away again like he had done many times before. But cigarettes were expensive, he should just learn to like them, with this pack, and stop throwing them away.

_Why do you want to learn how to enjoy smoking so badly?_

Didn’t we agree to stop asking those stupid questions already?

_Did we? I don’t remember?_

I wish _I_ didn’t remember.

The weather was gray as ever. Between the gray houses built in the seventies, covered in dust and colored dark by the exhaust fumes, one couldn’t really feel anything other than gray. There were many shades of gray - hahaha fifty even - but Seonghwa had yet to learn to like any of them. It was raining, like it always was in October. 

Seonghwa found weird comfort in the gray weather that he despised so much. It felt like he belonged there, in the grayness. Although he didn’t want it to be the truth, he knew that it was. He watched the night get darker and the streetlights get turned on. The darkness was better, it hid the despair of the dying world around him.

He walked. Around the area of student accommodations, he liked taking a walk around the old buildings while he smoked. After having spent a year and a half in Seoul, he still wasn’t too familiar with the city or even the areas closer to the campus. He had lost all interest in the big city. But the campus, he knew. Perfectly. 

It wasn’t much, but it was his world. His world had never been very big, even smaller lately. 

The night kept getting darker and colder, Seonghwa lit another cigarette because he didn’t feel like getting back to his dorm room yet. Yunho was in a bad mood, since he had apparently done something stupid at tonight's party again. Seonghwa wasn't too sure and he hadn't asked, Yunho had come home sulking and shitfaced and Seonghwa had basically exited the room before the giant had even shut the door behind himself. 

Yunho was a good guy. But he was dumb, and especially dumb when it came to alcohol. The poor boy was only in his first year, but they were deep into autumn already. He should have learned something.

Well, maybe he was never going to learn. That wasn’t unusual for college students. Or, most of them had to learn when they left school. But Yunho still had three years ahead of him.

Seonghwa had two. Yunho made him feel young again, which was a bit of a funny thing to say but Seonghwa felt like his two (or, one and a half, he shouldn’t rush yet) years in the uni had taken ten years out of his life. Yunho had become his roommate at the start of his second year when his first roommate had dropped out. And with him, he had brought a bunch of young hope, excitement, naivety, and dumbness that had, at first, annoyed the hell out of Seonghwa but which he found endearing now.

Yunho cheered him up. But right now, Seonghwa needed to wallow in his melancholy. Alone. 

For a moment. 

Seonghwa was ripped from his thoughts when a door was slammed closed in the building he was next to. It was one of the many student dorm buildings, Seonghwa turned to look as someone walked out with rapid steps. He didn’t look that special, he was skinny, and pulling on a leather jacket in a hurry. It was only when he walked past Seonghwa that he noticed something - a part of his fringe had been bleached white. A narrow stripe. It was an unusual hairstyle.

Their eyes met very briefly, and had it not been for the bright streetlight, Seonghwa would have completely missed it. The boy looked frightened, as though he had cried or was about to. The fraction of a second passed so quickly, the boy walked past him and turned towards the road. 

Seonghwa looked after him. He always felt bad seeing people in distress, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. 

Everyone suffered. That was just how it was.

He went to dump his cigarette. It was late, maybe he should head back to his own dorm. It was Friday so he had no lectures the next day, but he _did_ have his part-time job in the morning that he needed to take care of. When he went to throw his trash away, he saw something on the ground.

Keys. A set of keys. He lifted it and eyed it closer. It looked like the key that Seonghwa owned, the electrical key to the student dorms. It had a cute keyring attached to it, a mascot or something. And it didn’t feel very wet, even though the night was quite misty, rainy even. 

Had the boy dropped it in his hurry? 

Seonghwa turned to look back, to the direction where the boy had disappeared in, but of course, he was long gone. What was he going to do about it? Should he run after him, check whether he was outside somewhere, freezing in the cold?

Uh, fine, whatever, what better things did he have to do?

So, Seonghwa did just that. He checked the nearby student buildings, but he saw no one. Maybe the boy had a roommate who had let him in? Probably.

Well, he could return the key to the student accommodation office in the morning. Until then, he hoped that the boy with the white stripe in his hair made it inside safely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall, thanks for showing interest in this story! Now, we're taking a look at San's past but then, we'll move forward and hard. Let me know how you feel about it! <3

_The idea, the concept of art has changed lately. Or rather, people have forgotten what art is about. The beauty of art has always lied in the idea of taking something mundane, ugly, awful, and turning it into something beautiful. Exploring things that we don’t quite understand, turning them into stories, upside down, so that we can look at them from different points of view._

_Nowadays art, stories, seem to be all about agenda. Writing about the things that are awful, the things that we understand, exactly as they are. Taking what used to be beautiful and shaking it, twisting it so that nothing worth seeing is left. I know, people are suffering, I know that it’s important that everyone is heard and everyone can express their inner feelings, but what is art worth if it just becomes a landfill of plain pain and suffering?_

_Art reflects our society, our lives._

_I wanted to make art. I wanted to tell people about beautiful things._

_But turns out, I have nothing to say._

_…_

  
  


**San**

The story of San and Wooyoung was perfect.

Or, as perfect as it could be in today’s world. 

Or no, it was not perfect, it was filled with flaws. But that was exactly what made it so perfect. It wasn’t _picture-perfect,_ but it was a great story.

San had never touched alcohol before their first college party. He and Wooyoung both studied psychology but so did dozens of others who had gathered into that particular bar on that particular night in March. Yeosang, San’s roommate that he had only met a couple of days ago, had ushered him to drink from the bowl that was passed around.

_“You don’t want people to think you’re weird, right? You’ll be fine, trust me”_

At that point, San had still firmly believed that Yeosang was a socially awkward soft boy who just wanted the best for everyone, so he had taken a sip from the big bowl once he got it and passed it to Yeosang. It wasn’t like he was a teetotaller, he just had never felt the urge to try.

But he did that night. Maybe it was the anxiety, maybe it was Yeosang that kept whispering to his ear (San had still thought he was the angel instead of the devil sitting on his shoulder, how naive of him) but he had ended up on the bar counter several times.

He hadn’t even done shots or anything. But he was skinny and inexperienced and Yeosang had disappeared like he always did (well, that was the first time he did it to San but for sure repeated the pattern in the future) and San had ended up spending his time with his other classmates. He had gotten to know a lot of people from his year - girls called Yerim and Gahyeon had danced with him to PSY remix on the dance floor, and a guy called Yeonjun had invited him to join his group at the corner table. San wasn’t even entirely sure what they had been talking about, because that had been fairly late and his three beers had kicked in. At some point, a guy called Changbin had asked if he wanted to have a smoke, and San had just agreed and followed him outside.

San never smoked. He hated smoking. But he had thought that clear air would maybe clear his head a little - he might have been drunk, but he knew that he would have to walk back home, and to do that, he needed to think somewhat straight. Ha. Ha. Think straight, as though that could ever happen.

Once they got outside, Changbin noticed other people there too. There were half a dozen men smoking outside, and once they got closer, they realized that the people were their classmates.

There weren't many people in that particular bar other than them. Ahjussies didn’t generally like to spend time with overenthusiastic, new college students. But to drunk San, seeing more of his classmates outside was a positive surprise. 

Changbin lit his smoke and San eyed the people. He had been introduced to most of them earlier but he couldn’t remember the names, no matter how hard he tried. He just stared at them. He stared, and stared, and stared until one of them answered his stare. 

The other guy, the very pretty guy whose name had escaped San long before he had even been drunk, raised a brow.

“Are you okay?” oh, he even had a pretty voice. How unfair.

“Yeah, sure, totally”, San waved his arm to show that it was nothing. “Beer is really good here”

The other guy, whose name San would really like to know, let out a small chuckle before tossing away his cigarette.

“It is”, he said, and the more San heard of his voice, the more he liked it. “You look like you’ve had a lot of it”

“Oh, I don’t know, like maybe three or something glasses? The glasses are really big here though, like, super huge”, San smiled and tried to demonstrate them with his hands but lost his footing for whatever reason and had to take a few stumbling steps to stay upward. The pretty boy stepped closer, looking a bit concerned with his arms open, but San just giggled and shook his head.

That was when he realized that there were much fewer people outside than there had been. Changbin was gone. Oh, whatever.

“Maybe you should sit down or something”, the pretty boy asked and carefully took his arm. “Before you fall and hit your head”

“Oh, yeah, that can’t happen! I need to walk home!”

“Okay, well, don’t do that just yet”

The guy had pulled him aside, to sit on the chairs placed in front of the convenience store right next to the bar. How nice of him. San was too drunk to notice the slight wavering of the other man, he slumped on the chair once they got close enough and the pretty boy sat opposite of him. He handed him a bottle that San hadn’t noticed he had been carrying - water.

He thanked him and took a sip. Even drunk San realized that taking anything to consume from strangers was a bad idea but they were classmates. He didn’t remember the name of the guy, but he remembered seeing him down the rest of the liquor in their shared bowl a few hours earlier. He generally didn’t forget beautiful people.

This man was beautiful. San unashamedly stared at him as he handed back the bottle. He had such a cute, straight nose, his hair looked fluffy under his beanie and his fringe framed his round face so… prettily. His lips looked kissable, and his big, beautiful eyes had been… was there eyeshadow in them? Damn, San loved eye makeup on guys. 

Then, he moved to stare at his ears and noticed something shining under the streetlight.

“There’s something on your ear”, he pointed out. The pretty boy looked confused and touched his ear to check.

“Oh, uh, do you mean my earrings?”

“Riiiight, earrings”, San nodded. “They’re really cool. You’re so pretty with them. I mean, you would be pretty without them too but, like, I don’t know, you just look cute”

“Oh thank you”, the pretty boy laughed genuinely now, and San’s heart sang at the sight. “Just so you know, you’re very cute too”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, I totally pale in comparison”, oh San couldn’t even be compared to someone like this pretty boy, no, but he still felt giddy inside. “But thanks”

The pretty boy dropped his elbows on the table the exact same way that would earn San a lecture from his mom, and then he leaned his chin on his palm. He looked at San with sparks in his eyes. And if San hadn’t been so drunk himself, it would have been obvious that the pretty boy was way past tipsy too. 

Or, that was what he told him afterward, when they looked back to that moment.

“I’m Jung Wooyoung”, the pretty boy finally said. He didn’t extend his hand or bow or anything at all, he just kept leaning to his hand and smiling.

“I’m Choi San”

**...**

_Knock, knock, knock._

“Yeosang!” 

_Knock knock knock_

“Open up, I know you’re in there!”

San kept knocking on the door, but no answer came. He groaned and leaned his back against the door - of course, he would forget his keys when Yeosang wasn’t in. Of course, his phone would run out of battery so that he couldn’t even ring Wooyoung to let him back into his apartment, after he had pathetically escaped.

It could be worse. He had been lucky that a few other students had exited his dorm building when he had come so that he didn’t need to freeze outside in the rain. But he was not going to get that lucky again. He wasn’t going to risk it. At least he was inside now. Maybe he could just sit by the door until Yeosang came?

But he felt tired. He couldn’t exactly sleep in the hallway. And he felt like crying, he couldn’t do that in the hallway either. He was stuck.

“Hey”, someone opened the door next to theirs. “Can you keep it down? It’s the middle of the fucking night!”

“I’m sorry”, he whispered and the boy slammed the door shut again. Okay, now San really felt tears in his eyes - great, what a man he was. And he had even disturbed other people with his stupidity. He felt so embarrassed, and knowing his nature, he would think back to that moment and not forgive himself for weeks to come.

Yeah. San had such an _understanding_ and _forgiving_ consciousness.

He sat on the floor and leaned against the door. The tears fell, and they tasted bitter, they hurt his eyes, coming out. Why did crying have to hurt so much? He cried because he was hurt, there was absolutely no reason why he should be feeling even more pain at times of tears. But his body had never listened to the voice of reason.

And as Wooyoung’s words kept playing in his head, he couldn’t help but just cry.

_“Wooyoung”, San gasped and grabbed his hand. “Please, don’t do that”_

_“But it will make you feel good”, the other said, his hand under his shirt. It didn’t feel bad yet, but San knew where it would lead if he let Wooyoung continue. And he… he just couldn’t._

_“No”, he said. “Please, baby, I’m not ready”_

_With a sigh, Wooyoung pulled his hand away. He got off him altogether, and although a part of San immediately relaxed knowing that that was the end of it, he still felt anxious seeing Wooyoung like that._

_“We’ve been together for five months”, Wooyoung said, not looking at San. San sat up too, but kept his eyes on the ground._

_“I just need a little more time”, he said quietly. “I’m sorry, it’s not you, I just… I want to but I can’t”_

_That wasn’t exactly the truth. But it was good enough. Or had been, in the past. Staring at Wooyoung’s back in the darkness, San felt like that excuse might be nearing its expiration date. It wasn’t even really an excuse, it was just… the best way to word it out._

_“I get it. You need more time”, Wooyoung said and he was clearly annoyed although he tried his best to hide it. San felt so bad, he cursed himself and he cursed the heavens but he still couldn’t make himself change._

_“I’m sorry”, San whispered._

_Wooyoung stood up, and San’s heart jumped to his throat._

_“Where are you going?”_

_“To the bathroom”, Wooyoung answered without looking back. “To, you know”_

_Take care of something that San should have, as his boyfriend. Or maybe that was an excuse too, so that he could go before he would show his frustration to San. Wooyoung wanted to avoid conflict until the very end, but San knew that he was starting to get angry. Slowly, he could see it in his eyes, in the way his muscles tensed as he looked away._

_So, San took that as his cue to leave._

_“Where are you going?” Wooyoung asked him as San grabbed his jacket from the desk chair, where he had thrown it upon his arrival._

_“It’s late, I should head back”, San said. He finally saw Wooyoung’s eyes and now the other was almost pouting. He wasn’t angry, he was upset._

_“Can’t you stay?” Wooyoung asked. “Just sleep, nothing else, I promise. It’s Friday”_

_He couldn’t even use the “early lectures” excuse, although that had also expired a while ago since Wooyoung had learned his schedule. And that had never worked in the first place since Wooyoung’s dorm was even closer to the psychology department buildings than San’s. He wished he had a good reason to say no, but he couldn’t come up with anything._

_Saying that sleeping next to him made San anxious, would only make Wooyoung feel worse._

_“I’m sorry, baby”, he felt anxious even thinking about it. “Maybe some other time”_

Why?

San often asked that question, of himself and of something greater that might be listening. 

Something that might exist. 

Why was he like that?

And he never got an answer.

San didn’t know how long he sat there. Long enough to run out of tears, although that night, he didn’t have that many. But by the time he heard the heavy steps from down the hallway, he had almost fallen asleep where he was. He was very close.

“Hey, dude, whatcha doing here?” Yeosang was obviously drunk, a very tired drunk, dragging his feet while walking. San… didn’t feel anything towards him. Not anger, not sadness, not fondness, nothing. Right at that moment, Yeosang was just his key to warmth and safety - literally. 

“I forgot my key”, which should be self-explanatory, but Yeosang was _wasted._ “Where were you?”

“Just, you know, around”, that was a very typical answer from Yeosang, and it wasn’t twisting the truth at all. San had been out with Yeosang before, and the nights with Yeosang were always a roller coaster - from one dorm to another, one bar to another, one party to another.

San wouldn’t call Yeosang a social butterfly, but he was always just there. Yeosang knew everyone, but the people didn’t exactly know him. He just always knew where to be, who to talk to, he knew what was going on. San admired that trait - Yeosang was like a secret agent, he never got involved but he had enough information to ruin several careers if he so pleased.

He was holding the power but he chose not to use it. How noble of him.

Yeosang took his time with the key but San didn’t bother to help. He wasn’t in that much of a hurry anymore. Once the other had finally opened the door, San just stepped in and literally fell on his bed and closed his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna change?” Yeosang asked, but San was half-asleep already.

“Nah”, he mumbled against his pillow. “There’s no need”

…

He regretted that in the morning, but his regrets didn’t come even close to Yeosang’s.

When San opened his eyes again, he saw Yeosang wrapped in his blanket, multiple of them, and he looked like a corpse. Yeah, very kindly said. The only thing that indicated to San that he was indeed alive was the slight shaking of his hands as he held his cup of water like it was the holy grail or something.

“Morning, Yeosang”, San yawned as he sat up. The clock on his nightstand only read 8:30 so they could both still sleep for a couple more hours without any quilt whatsoever. The jeans that San had worn seemed to have been glued to his skin as he had sweated under the blanket, and he seriously needed a shower. But he might ignore all that in favor of getting more sleep.

"Pain", Yeosang's voice resembled that of The Grudge, the one movie that still caused San nightmares occasionally. "So much pain" 

"Did you take pain medicine?" San asked and stretched his arms. "Or are you too nauseous?" 

"There's none", Yeosang was clearly trying to keep his word count at a minimum. "I'm dying" 

"What do you mean there's none?" San wondered out loud and looked into his desk drawer, where they usually kept their pain meds. And indeed, only an empty cardboard packet remained. "Where did they all go?" 

"Flu", Yeosang croaked. "Almost died" 

Ah. Right. Yeosang had had the flu of the century two weeks ago - well, San had often trouble telling how severe Yeosang's illnesses were since he also suffered from a serious case of "Man flu syndrome" but this time he believed that the other had been truly ill. And since Yeosang popped pain meds like gummy bears on a regular basis (San hated that habit of his, it was unhealthy and damaging) it was no wonder that he had gone through an entire packet by himself in no time. 

"Help me" 

San closed his eyes and rubbed his face. He didn't feel like going out at all, he had just woken up and he felt like sleeping a couple more hours… 

"San"

… and since Yeosang had essentially caused this for himself by not buying more pain meds after eating the rest AND getting pissed drunk…

"Please"

" _Fine_ "

San wasn't that cold and emotionless. He should be happy that Yeosang came back at all, otherwise, he would still be sleeping in the hallway. San stood up and since he was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, he only needed to pull on a jacket. 

He would have to shower and change once he got back. But right at that moment, he couldn't care less. 

"I'll go get your stupid pain meds", he said to Yeosang. "But I'm taking your card. And I'm buying chocolate too" 

… 

San made his way to the small convenience store closest to campus, the one where he sometimes bought coffee in the morning before going to his first lessons. Everything else was quite expensive there, so San preferred buying his snacks elsewhere, from bigger markets with more student-friendly pricing. But he didn't care now - Yeosang wanted his pain relief and San his sweets. 

Yeosang had laid down as San pulled his jacket on so he might be sleeping once he got back. Still, as he had his card and everything, the store nearest to campus was the best option.

When San got to the snacks aisle though, he started to waver. Maybe he could buy something else for them to eat too, something like crackers, so that they could survive the morning, not needing to order food before noon. They had plenty of instant ramen at home, they could warm it up in the common kitchen that they shared with the 12 other guys living on their floor.

It was usually messy and untidy there. But there were two things that everyone kept perfectly clean - the kettle and the rice cooker. San chose this and that from the food aisle, something they could eat with ramen that would make it an alright breakfast/lunch, and then picked up the snack and medicine and walked up to the counter.

“One pack of West too, thanks”, San showed his ID card to the cashier, a man who didn’t look much older than him, and then switched it to Yeosang’s credit card. He hated buying cigarettes to the other but Yeosang was an addict and already hungover, so withdrawal symptoms would only be a minus now since it wasn’t like he was quitting. Yeosang had once again handed out his cigarettes the night before, probably to the people he found attractive. He had enough money to live like that.

Why he still chose to live in their shitty dorms instead of at least having a single room, San couldn’t understand. 

The cashier beeped the tobacco into his machine as well and handed them over. However, the moment he looked San in the eyes while doing so, he froze.

“Wait”, he said. “You!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wah, two different fic updates in one day? I had a blast with writing, this day was amazing, I got full marks from my Chinese course so I took a day off from studying. I take them fairly often though - the field I'm on feels quite easy for me so, this whole year has been quite easy. That's nice for a change.
> 
> Anyways, here's a new chapter, let me know what you think!

**_Seonghwa_ **

_So, Seonghwa, how’s your writing?” Hongjoong had asked. “Any success with that?”_

_“Not really, no”, Seonghwa stared down at his glass. The somaek didn’t taste nearly as good as it had when they had been teenagers - maybe because it lacked the exciting element of danger in it. They were allowed to drink it now, so it was nothing._

_“It feels like the stories I write… I don’t think anyone would want to hear them”_

_“When have you ever cared about what anyone wants to hear? We’re all screaming into deaf darkness anyway”_

Hongjoong had just taken another sip of soju and stared at the TV for a while afterward, before suggesting that they went out. Minho and Jungwoo had been on board immediately, and Seonghwa didn’t want to be the odd one out so he had followed them to the norebang with no complaints.

Listening to Jungwoo drunkenly belt out the high notes in “Tears” did nothing to distract his thoughts though. _We’re all screaming into deaf darkness anyway_ . Since when had Hongjoong been thinking so... darkly? Or no, it wasn’t even dark, it was… hollow, uneasy. Like everything around them. What color was _deaf darkness_?

That’s right, it had no color at all. It was just...

So it wasn’t even really gray. But gray was the closest color that Seonghwa could come up with. Or, it wasn’t like he came up with any colors but, he linked grayness with emptiness.

And it was easy to feel gray, empty, in a city as busy as Seoul. Surprisingly easy. 

Seonghwa's Saturday morning had started as gray and empty. He woke up and got dressed silently while Yunho snored, and sulked once he woke up to Seonghwa stumbling over the backpack that the younger had left on the floor upon coming home. Seonghwa drank his coffee black and bitter and got to work.

He filled the coffee maker and handled the Lotto coupons as usual. Like a machine. The people coming to the shop, tired and hungover and sometimes cheerful (the aunties running a Japanese restaurant next door were always happy in the mornings, for some weird reason) mixed together in his brain as he leaned against the counter and did the bare minimum. Dark eyes, dark hair, same customer service smile, gray masses.

Only, a little stripe of white hair woke him up from his stupor.

“You!”

“Uh” the boy with the white fringe gestured towards himself, confused. “Me?”

“Sorry, how mannerless of me”, Seonghwa hit himself mentally and finally let go of the pack of cigarettes. He had become so good at his job (if he dared to say so himself) that his customers no longer noticed that he was completely zoned out while doing it.

“You dropped your key yesterday!”

Well, straight to the point was the best way to deal with these things, wasn’t it? The boy with the white stripe - Seonghwa hadn’t even checked his name in his ID, only the birth year - looked confused, but his face brightened a little.

“Did you find it?” He asked. “Wait, how do you know?”

“I saw you exit a building and then I found a key on the ground, I just put one and one together”, Seonghwa pointed at his own fringe that he had lazily combed down because who cared, really, he worked in a corner store. “I remember your hair”

“Oh”, the boy nodded and fixed his fringe right away, mixing the white with dark brown a little. “Um, do you have it?”

“Yes. I actually do. I was going to bring it to the student accommodation office after my shift”, he walked to the door leading to the back room right away, but then stopped. “Right, uh, I guess I should ask you for a description, just in case”

“Right”, the boy nodded. He was being cooperative, during his time in the customer service field, Seonghwa had learned to appreciate that trait a lot. “There’s a small key ring plushie attached. Ryan bear. But it’s missing one ear”

Seonghwa nodded and walked to the back. He found the key easily from the side pocket of his backpack and returned to the front - there was no line behind San as it was a lazy, usual Saturday morning near campus. College students were their main clientele and they didn’t like to wake up early if they didn’t have to. 

Seonghwa dropped the keys to the boy’s hand and noticed something near the collar of his shirt. He could have seen wrong, but it was almost as though he had a bruise there.

Seonghwa hadn't been born yesterday, he knew exactly what kinds of bruises people got near their collar bones, but the fact that he wasn’t sure if he had seen one there or not, annoyed him. Weren’t people in their 20s a bit too old to be showing off their hickeys? To the boy’s defense, it wasn't very high up his neck and his collar almost covered it. Seonghwa had only seen it partially, but still.

“Thank you”, the boy said and closed his fingers around it. “I would have been in so much trouble if they had found out that I lost them again”

“No problem, I felt sorry that I couldn’t return them right away”, Seonghwa shrugged. “Oh, and by the way, I’m Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa”

The boy could have read his name tag but it was nicer introducing himself that way. Seonghwa normally didn’t introduce himself to customers, not even the attractive ones. But it was a particularly slow Saturday and he _had_ seen the guy before, so. 

“I’m Choi San”, San answered with a smile. “Have you been working here for long? I haven’t seen you before”

“I started two months ago, I only work on weekends”, He typed down the sum of San’s products and then handed over the payment terminal. “School keeps me busy”

“Oh, that explains it”, San nodded to himself and placed his blue credit card on top of the machine. “I’m usually… hungover in the weekend mornings”

“Understandable”, Seonghwa took back the terminal after the confirmation of payment, and ripped off the receipt. San was carrying with him a reusable shopping bag like a good, environmentally conscious college student that he was, so Seonghwa just watched as he packed his groceries and handed over the receipt. “I was like that in my first year too”

“Oh yeah, I should grow up soon too. First year is first year for a reason” the guy shook his head with a smile. “So, you’re a senior to me then. What do you study?”

“History”, Seonghwa answered. “Culture history, to be more specific”

“Oh, that’s... um...”

“A waste of time?” Seonghwa finished the sentence for him and chuckled when San paled and shook his head. “I know, I know, it’s just a joke. I like it, I don’t care what other people say about it”

“Okay, well, good. I think it sounds very interesting!” San looked so cute when he tried to be serious. He pouted when he nodded, probably unconsciously. That made it all the more charming. “I study psychology, I’m on my first year if it wasn’t… obvious”

“Psychology?” Seonghwa raised his brows. “Do you know Yunho? Jung Yunho? He should be on your field”

“Well, kind of”, San said. “Wait, are _you_ his old and grumpy roommate?”

“Is that how he describes me?”

“No, I mean-” San got all defensive again and Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh at his reactions. He spotted a few customers entering the shop from the corner of his eye, and he cursed silently in his head. He had to actually work for his salary, what a bummer.

“Uh”, San got himself together. “You are older, right? So, that’s what he means when he says grumpy. Or not even actually grumpy, just older”

“I’m not that much older. I was born in 1998, just so we’re clear”, Seonghwa smiled. “But it’s fine, totally, don’t worry. I’ll talk to Yunho once I get back”

“Please don’t”, San seemed to pale even more. “I, we, we’re not the closest and I don’t want him to think that I gossip. It was just something I overheard him saying, or, well, this technically _is_ gossiping but, you know”

“I know”, Seonghwa chuckled good-heartedly The customers had chosen their ramens and were heading towards his counter. “It’s alright. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Take care of your keys, San!”

“I will”, San stepped away from the counter to make space for the customers and shoved the bunch of keys in his pocket. “See you around Seonghwa hyung!”

“Likewise”, he smiled at him one last time and then turned to do what he was paid to do.

…

“Talk to me. What did you do?”

“No”, Yunho shook his head violently. He was still wrapped into his blanket when Seonghwa returned from work at two pm, so he had decided to move to more fierce measures - forcing him to talk. Yunho was like a big bear, a very huggable bear despite his size, and he had a weak heart. A moral hangover was a regular part of his Saturdays, but this was a bit more severe than it usually was and Seonghwa wanted to get rid of it because he hated seeing him sulking.

Yunho was the kind of person who might feel overwhelming embarrassment because he spilled some beer or something. He needed to talk about it, and he needed to be forgiven, understood, and comforted. Seonghwa had learned it the hard way - the first few times he had just rolled his eyes and told him to get himself together, but that had only hurt him more. Now, he was ready to listen.

If the younger only _talked_ to him.

“Did you spill beer on your clothes?” he started guessing. That sometimes helped. “Or someone else’s clothes? Did you trip? Fall down?”

Yunho just shook his head and hid his face deeper into his blanket. Seonghwa took a deep breath and closed his eyes so that he didn’t roll them.

“You have to tell me”, he said calmly, like he would to a child. Yunho was like an overgrown child in so many ways, only, a child who had a tendency to screw around while intoxicated and feel bad for weeks, if not months after. And still, he never seemed to learn. “If you want to feel better. You deserve to feel better”

“Okay!” Yunho’s voice was muffled by the blanket but Seonghwa could hear his frustration. “I got dragged into another drinking game again and… and Mingi was there”

Ah. Classic, drinking game regrets. That gave Seonghwa a whole new catalog to start guessing from, one which he had used with Yunho many times before. People weren’t that creative, usually, their drinking games resolved around very similar patterns.

And then there was the name, Mingi. Yunho had had a massive crush on this classmate of his ever since he had seen him the first time. It was an ugly crush, only the mention of his name would make Yunho giddy and unable to focus. Seonghwa hadn’t known him before this crush, so he couldn’t say how much it had changed his life but his guess was - a lot.

“Did you do something with him?” Seonghwa asked. Yunho still wasn’t showing his face, but he nodded.

“Were you dared?” 

Another nod. Seonghwa rubbed his temples - great, this wasn’t something that they would get over today, not even this week. This month. Just great.

“Tell me”, he said. “Say it out loud and we’ll go through it”

“We were dared to make out for 30 seconds”

Seonghwa had serious difficulties understanding Yunho's embarrassed mumbling, but he understood enough. 

“We were listening to freaking Abracadabra and everyone was watching! And it was awful! He _laughed_ at me!”

“Okay, there’s a lot there”, Seonghwa started when Yunho had finally gotten something out. “To me, that doesn’t sound like the end of the world. So, were you dared, or was he dared?”

“He was!”

“Okay, and what were the instructions, specifically?”

Believe it or not, it was good to lay every detail on the table so that Yunho could get through each and every one of them.

“I was really drunk”, Yunho started, finally showing his face. He was red from being under the blanket for so long, his overly grown hair was pointing at every direction. “It was a dare to Mingi. You know, how no one likes picking dares over truths because everyone is so lazy. So, when he finally picked one, the girls got wild”

Seonghwa listened, trying to smile reassuringly but Yunho kept his eyes at the floor instead.

“So, one of them told him to make out with one of the boys. This time the catch was that he had to choose someone who he thought was better than him at something. And you know how people say that he is a bit full of himself-”

Oh, Seonghwa knew that detail. People weren’t just saying that - the guy _was_.

“- so, he chose me. He said that it was because I was taller than him or something. That's not really a skill, but anyway”

“Okay”, Seonghwa nodded. He felt like Yunho’s psychologist sometimes. “Sounds solid. Why are you upset?”

“Because I was so bad!” Yunho groaned. “I was so nervous, I ruined it! The dare was to kiss, like, super deeply. Like, a full-on French kiss with tongue and all. And you know how I can’t really do stuff like that! I was just clumsy and awful and you know what he said to me when we pulled apart? _Oh, I thought you looked inexperienced_. It was OBVIOUS! I HATE MYSELF”

Seonghwa moved to sit next to Yunho. He patted the younger’s hair down and rubbed his back through the blanket, to give him some physical comfort. Because what was he supposed to say? What could he say to that?

He had to try _something._ Something that didn't lead Yunho on with his hopeless crush, but also something that comforted him.

"That doesn't sound like he hated it", he said carefully. "There's nothing wrong with being inexperienced. Some find it very cute"

"Not Mingi!" Yunho insisted. "You didn't see the way he looked at me, like I was worthless, like... like I was some insect or something!"

"You may have read the situation wrong"

Yunho didn't answer anything. He just _hing_ -ed against his pillow, like an idol singer forced to do aegyo on TV.

Alright, a change in tactics was definitely needed.

“He’ll forget about it, that man has his tongue down another girl’s throat sooner than you can even expect”

“But it was my grande chance”, Yunho hid his face in his hands again. “I screwed up. I _always_ screw up”

“Well, I don’t think Mingi gives anyone a real chance. He doesn’t do relationships, remember? He can’t commit, you told me yourself”

“Yeah, he can’t, but”, Yunho looked up, but not at Seonghwa. He looked at the ceiling, beyond it, his eyes shining again. “He could change. If he fell in love”

Such a _nice sentiment_ , after _everything._

Seonghwa felt the mighty urge to smack that stardust away from his eyes. Not like he would ever use violence against anyone, he wasn’t like that, but Yunho might need it sometimes. He was a dreamer, a ridiculously naive dreamer. Seonghwa hadn't known that anyone who wasn’t under 14 years old was even capable of such things but Yunho kept proving him wrong time and time again.

Once Yunho entered his dreamer-mentality, there was nothing Seonghwa could say. Yunho was entering cognitive dissonance.

So he stood up.

“I’ll go make some hot cocoa”, he said. “To get you up. Then we can eat some ramen and chips if you want and watch cat videos and _then_ , we will return to our assignments and you will forget about that stupid Song Mingi for a while. Deal?”

“Sure”, Yunho blinked the stardust from his eyes, but still smiled a bit. “Thanks, hyung”

“Don’t mention it”

It worked fine that afternoon. A little less fine at night when Yunho complained again. Sunday was alright, whereas Monday was a disaster because Yunho had a lesson together with Mingi and he came back home red and frustrated. He laid on his back on his bed, his feet pointing at the ceiling while he talked and talked and talked and talked, and although Seonghwa zoned out every now and then while writing his essay, the topic had changed nowhere by the time he zoned back in.

Tuesday was another day of depression. Yunho didn’t have any lessons so he laid in bed for the whole day. And Wednesday was another day of endless talking. On Thursday, Yunho went to the gym but of course, Mingi had been there at the same time and he had had to escape before finishing his routine. And Seonghwa listened to his ranting for one more night until his patience wore off.

“Here”, Seonghwa dropped a six-pack of beer on the shared table between their beds, scaring Yunho who was, again, listening to angsty songs on repeat from Melon. “Take these, my treat, and get out”

“Are you kicking me out, hyung?”, Yunho pouted and his lower lip was trembling, as he stared at Seonghwa with his big puppy eyes. He was too big to be a puppy. Yet, Seonghwa still had trouble ordering him around.

“This isn’t healthy for you”, Seonghwa argued. “Go out, have fun, meet your friends. I have a very important deadline tonight and I need to be able to work on it. In quiet”

“And beer is healthy, then?” Yunho mumbled but looked at the cans with slight interest. He hadn’t shown that much interest in anything else the whole week, so Seonghwa felt hopeful right away.

Yunho was a great roommate otherwise, but he was bad at peace and quiet. One might ask _But Seonghwa, isn’t peace, quiet and cleanliness the least you could ask for in a roommate?_ But to Seonghwa, that wasn’t exactly the truth.

As long as no ants breed in their room, he didn’t mind a little untidiness. Yunho’s talkative nature was alright, Seonghwa usually liked having someone around. They respected each other’s sleep schedules, preferences, they had a great time together and they had become friends. It was fine, usually.

Now, Seonghwa needed some time alone. Just him and his essay. The library was closed for the day and Seonghwa had once again left this assignment for the last possible moment. So, he was going to work like a madman until 00:00. Seonghwa was planning to hit two birds with one stone because Yunho needed to get out, and Seonghwa didn't have time to entertain him himself.

“I’m worried about your mental state. A little alcohol in your system is nothing in comparison”, and Yunho was far from a lightweight, six beers would barely get him drunk.

“Aargh, fine”, Yunho rolled up and stretched his arms with a big yawn. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet, he shouldn’t sleep anyway. “I’ll go have fun. With, like, Changbin or something”

“That’s the spirit”, Seonghwa didn’t know much about Yunho’s friends, but he knew the names. And Changbin never said no to free booze. Or beer. Free anything.

As a student should.

While Yunho took his time in the shower, Seonghwa opened his laptop. His Chinese History assignment was waiting for him, ready to be filled with his analysis on Confucianism and Wu Zetian. Seonghwa opened another tab to see his schedule for next week. Another deadline on Saturday of the upcoming week - great, that one time when he had the morning off. Oh well. Maybe he could finish it earlier? 

Yeah, what a dream. But he wrote up his plans to go to the library at ten o’clock every morning. Or maybe 11. Or maybe 12 instead…

He clicked something in his document folder by accident and an empty word file opened in front of him. Or, not entirely empty - there were two lines written on the top of the word document. Something he had written a while back, almost a year ago now. The last words of his own, if one didn’t count text messages and school assignments. The last words he had written entirely for himself.

Seonghwa read them through before he managed to stop himself, and slammed his laptop closed.

Maybe he could start with re-reading some of his source materials instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I became a fan of Ateez after hearing their song Answer. It was like love at first sight, that song is AMAZING. I also love Dreamcatcher's Deja Vu, which was apparently made by the same producer. Anyway, I didn't know it back then. I just listened to Answer again and again and again and then I just wanted to know their names and... rest is history. I also like Promise and Horizon a lot, but Answer is one of the best kpop songs of this year and I will stand behind this statement till the end. 
> 
> What about you?

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you thought down in the comments, hit kudos if you liked it, you know the usual yada yada but really, thank you for reading! I hope I'll see you around, for now, have a great day and bbbbyeeeee!


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